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Authors: Catrin Collier

Tiger Bay Blues (31 page)

BOOK: Tiger Bay Blues
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As he refused even to discuss it, all she could do was wait until the end of the week when they would go to the vicarage in Tiger Bay. But that thought didn’t prevent a tight knot of apprehension from forming in her stomach. Peter was charming and polite, solicitous even. But she could hear Harry’s voice ringing in her ears:
‘Some men don’t make good husbands and I have a feeling Peter Slater may be one of them
 …’

The front doorbell rang out as Harry was running, light-footed and whistling, down the stairs early the next morning. He turned and shouted up the passage, ‘I’ll get it, Mari.’

To his surprise, one of his parents’ oldest friends, local constable Huw Davies, was on the doorstep.

‘Good morning, Uncle Huw. You’ve come round early for a cup of tea on a Sunday morning. And in full uniform, too. Have they run out at the station?’

Huw stepped inside and removed his helmet, revealing his thinning ginger hair. I’m sorry, Harry, I’m afraid I’m not here for Mari’s tea. Is your father in?’

‘There hasn’t been an accident, has there?’ Harry froze as he thought of Peter and Edyth. ‘My sister –’

‘It’s not your sister,’ Huw reassured quickly.

‘Huw, I heard your voice. How nice of you to call.’ Lloyd walked down the stairs in shirtsleeves and waistcoat, still fastening cufflinks into his cuffs. ‘Come in.’ He opened the door to the sitting room. ‘Harry, ask Mari if she’ll make us some tea, will you, please?’

‘I’ll leave the tea, if you don’t mind, Lloyd.’

‘This has to be a first, a policeman refusing tea.’ Lloyd waited for Huw to enter the sitting room and followed him.

‘As I was just saying to Harry, this isn’t a social call, Lloyd. I only wish it were. It’s about your brother-in-law, Harry.’

‘My brother-in-law,’ Harry repeated in surprise. ‘All three are upstairs sleeping.’

‘The younger two may be, but David isn’t. I recognised him from your wedding. I’m sorry I couldn’t make Edyth’s but –’

‘Edyth understood, Huw,’ Lloyd interrupted. ‘It’s not always easy to get leave at short notice.’

‘I’ll check David’s in bed.’ Harry went to open the door.

‘He’s not, Harry,’ Huw said firmly. ‘We had an attempted suicide in the town last night. It was definitely David. He jumped off the old bridge.’

Harry stared at him in bewilderment. ‘David … Are you sure?’

‘I saw him jump and hauled him out of the river. He picked a bad spot. The water’s not deep enough to break a fall at that point. Or drown in,’ he added.

‘Is he alive?’ Lloyd dared ask the question Harry couldn’t bring himself even to phrase.

‘Just about. He’s under guard in the Graig Hospital. He’s broken bones in both his legs, ankles and pelvis.’ Huw turned his helmet over uneasily in his hands. ‘You know my views on charging unsuccessful suicides, Lloyd. If it had been up to me I would have turned a blind eye. But unfortunately I wasn’t the only one to see him jump. The sergeant was with me and we both watched David climb up on to the parapet, so there’s no question of an accidental fall. When the sergeant told the Superintendent, he insisted that David be formally charged with attempted suicide as soon as he comes round.’

‘Has he said anything?’

‘He hasn’t regained consciousness yet, Harry.’ Desperately unhappy at having to deliver the news, Huw continued to look down at the helmet in his hands. ‘He’s in a bad way. The doctors are not expecting him to come around for at least twenty-four hours.’

‘But he will live?’ Harry had grown to love his brother-in-law in spite of his obstinacy and occasionally wild ways, but he knew that Mary loved him more.

‘That, as the doctor told me this morning, is in the lap of the gods.’

‘Can we at least see him?’ Lloyd pleaded.

‘Strictly speaking, no. But, as I reminded the Super this morning, procedure demands a formal identification by a close relative.’

Huw didn’t have to say any more. Quicker than Harry, Lloyd opened the door and reached for his and Harry’s hats and coats.

‘If he does come round, and can give us a good reason as to why he should have been on that parapet and jumped from the bridge – anything at all that I can use to placate my superiors – I promise you I’ll do everything in my power to get the charges dropped, Lloyd.’

‘Thank you, Huw. You’re a good friend.’ Lloyd set his hand on Huw’s shoulder.

‘As I said to the sergeant, David’s a farm boy. I thought I saw a shadow leave the water and crawl on to the bank when I went in to get him. If he saw a dog and tried to rescue it …’

‘Being a farm boy, David has a harder attitude than most to animals. Especially ones he doesn’t know,’ Harry dismissed.

‘Oh no, he doesn’t,’ Lloyd contradicted, instantly understanding what Huw was trying to do.

‘But he does –’

‘If he was rescuing a dog, Harry, it couldn’t be attempted suicide, could it?’ Huw always spoke slowly and Harry had often wondered if it was a deliberate attempt to make people think he wasn’t very bright. For the first time he realised it was exactly that.

‘I’ll go and tell Sali where we’re going. Harry, you’d better tell Mary what’s happened.’ When he saw Harry hesitate, Lloyd said, ‘Better it comes from you than anyone else.’

‘Yes, Dad.’ Harry had never been so reluctant to comply with an order from his father. But he went into the hall and walked back up the stairs.

Chapter Sixteen

‘I told Alice you would be at church this morning,’ Florence Slater said triumphantly, gazing at Peter and Edyth before shaking her table napkin out of the ‘slipper’ the maid had folded it into.

‘More fool them.’ Alice straightened her fork. ‘Theo and I found better things to do the morning after we were married than go to church.’

‘We had to attend church anyway,’ Peter said quietly, ‘so I thought we may as well sit in your pew, Aunt Alice.’

‘Vicar or no vicar, I’m sure God would have forgiven you for missing service this one Sunday.’ Alice rang the bell for the maid to start serving the meal.

‘Alice, that is blasphemous,’ Florence reprimanded.

‘No, it isn’t,’ Alice contradicted. ‘I’m only applying the philosophy of the good book. God is all-seeing, all-knowing, all-forgiving – or so you keep telling me.’

‘Not when it comes to deliberate sins,’ Florence lectured.

‘I think we’ve all had enough sermonising for one day, Flo. Much as I like Reverend Hastings, he goes on and on
and
on. More than half the congregation were sitting with their eyes closed this morning. I’m sure I heard the choirmaster snoring. I was so bored, I caught myself counting the hairs on his head when it fell forward. He has fifty-seven left, and they were so thickly plastered with Macassar Oil it was easy to see every one. Now,’ she turned to Edyth and Peter before Florence could protest any further, ‘are they looking after you at the hotel?’

‘Very well,’ Edyth assured her.

‘And the food?’

‘Dinner last night was wonderful.’ Edyth glanced at Peter but he seemed happy to leave the conversation to her.

‘Excuse me, madam, ladies, sir.’ The maid came in with a tray that held four steaming bowls of cauliflower soup.

‘Tell me, what did you eat?’ Alice demanded once the soup had been served.

‘Oysters followed by roast duck with plum sauce, mashed and roast potatoes, vegetables, cheese soufflé, pears in red wine, cheese, coffee and brandy,’ Peter answered.

‘And to drink?’ Alice’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

‘You know what we had to drink, Aunt Alice, because I had it on good authority from the wine waiter that you insisted on going down to the cellar to choose the champagne yourself.’

‘Champagne?’ Florence said. ‘I know you gave Peter and Edyth the honeymoon at the Caswell Bay Hotel as a wedding present, Alice, but champagne really is an unwarranted extravagance. Just think what they could have done with the money.’

‘Phooey,’ Alice dismissed. ‘In my experience, unless people are destitute they always find money for essentials.’

‘It was very generous of you, Aunt Alice,’ Edyth said gratefully, hoping she wouldn’t antagonise Peter’s mother further by expressing her gratitude.

‘Just make sure they serve you the same vintage every night,’ Alice warned. ‘Don’t you dare put up with anything inferior, no matter what they tell you about short supply. It’s a jolly good drink. I always share a bottle there with a few members of my bridge club after our monthly inter-club tournaments. They have a decent cellar in the Caswell Bay – provided, of course, you know your wine and aren’t prepared to be fobbed off with rubbish. And price is no indication of quality. Remember that, Edyth. Take the trouble to study wines and vintages. It could save you a great deal of money and, more importantly, your palette, in future.’

‘I hardly think a vicar’s wife is likely to need any knowledge of wines, Alice, expensive or cheap. Peter and Edyth are in no position to stock a cellar.’ Florence fragmented her bread roll with a venom that suggested she wished it were her sister she was crumbling.

‘You’re such a wet blanket, Flo. Vicars might not be the richest of men but I’m sure Peter and Edyth will be able to keep a good table. So, let’s hear it.’ Alice looked expectantly at Peter. ‘What do you two have planned for the week?’

‘If the weather holds, walking,’ Peter said resolutely.

‘And if it doesn’t?’

‘A trip or two into Swansea,’ Edyth said.

‘Disraeli
with George Arliss is showing in the Plaza and there’s a musical,
The Whirl of the World,
playing in the Grand this week. I suggest you enjoy yourselves while you have the time to do it. Salt?’ Alice handed Edyth the cruet.

‘Thank you.’ Edyth took it from her.

‘Peter should be spending his time preparing for his return to his parish,’ Florence said primly.

‘I spent the last month preparing for this week’s leave of absence, Mother,’ Peter reminded her mildly.

‘You know what your father used to say. You can never put too much preparation into a sermon. The more effort you expend, the more likely you are to introduce God into the lives of your flock.’

‘I remember, Mother.’

‘Oh goody, fillets of beef,’ Alice cried out childishly, when a second maid brought in the next course, as the first maid cleared away their soup bowls.

‘You will come and see us again, Peter?’ Florence pressed.

‘Of course we will, Mother.’

Edyth’s heart sank. Much as she was enjoying the excellent meal and Alice’s company, she found her mother-in-law irritating and Peter’s meek responses to his mother’s edicts even more so.

‘When?’ Florence demanded.

‘We’ll call in to say goodbye before we leave at the end of the week.’

Edyth’s spirits soared.

‘But we have things to talk about, Peter. I’ve contacted one carrier but I’m by no means certain that he is the cheapest, or the most secure.’

‘He comes highly recommended, Flo.’ Alice pushed a cut-glass bowl of horseradish in front of Edyth. ‘Although I think you’re making a terrible mistake. Young people need to be left to get on with their lives. Especially when they’re first married.’

‘You talk a lot of nonsense at times, Alice.’ For the first time since they had sat down to the meal, Peter’s mother’s voice rose above her customary soft intonation, and acquired a sharper edge. ‘I have a great deal of experience at managing a parish. I helped Arnold run Mumbles smoothly for over twenty years. Both Peter and Edyth will find my help invaluable.’

‘Am I missing something?’ Edyth set her knife and fork on her plate and gazed at her mother-in-law.

‘I am going to move in with you and Peter, Edyth. Where else would a mother live other than with her son and daughter-in-law? Didn’t he tell you?’

The ward sister showed Harry, Huw and Lloyd into a side ward where David lay, white-faced, in an iron-framed hospital bed. He was so still that Harry leaned over to check his brother-in-law was still breathing.

‘Constable Davies.’ A uniformed sergeant rose from an upright chair placed discreetly behind the door.

‘Sir, this is the family of the patient, come to formally identify him.’ Huw hung back behind Lloyd and Harry.

‘Is this man David Ellis?’ The sergeant removed a notebook from his tunic pocket and looked to Harry.

‘He is,’ Harry asserted.

‘You will visit the station and sign a statement to that effect?’

‘Of course.’ Harry bent even closer to David and whispered, ‘Davy, it’s me, Harry.’

‘He’s heavily sedated, Mr Evans. He can’t hear you.’ The sister lifted David’s arm from the bed and took his pulse.

‘Can we talk to his doctor?’ Lloyd asked.

‘Doctor John won’t be here again until tomorrow morning, unless we have an emergency. The patient’s broken bones have been set.’ She indicated the cages that had been placed over David’s legs, ankles and hips to take the weight of the blankets that covered him to his chin. ‘We’ll take further X-rays in a few weeks to see if any of the damage is permanent. Until then, the only prescribed treatment is care and rest.’

Refusing to be deterred by the sister, who was already holding the door open to show them out, Harry again whispered, ‘Davy.’

David’s eyelids flickered.

Encouraged, Harry repeated, ‘Davy.’

David opened his eyes, only to close them before focusing.

‘Can I stay with him?’ Harry pleaded.

‘Visiting hours are strictly regulated, Mr Evans. One hour on Sunday afternoon and half an hour on Wednesday evening. For close family only. No more than two visitors allowed for each patient,’ the sister recited mechanically.

‘Please,’ Harry looked pointedly at the sergeant, ‘I won’t disturb David or anyone else on the ward. I’d hate for him to wake surrounded by strangers.’

‘Rules are made for a reason, Mr Evans, and you have been here quite long enough,’ the sister declared finally.

‘I’ll take over from you if you like, sir,’ Huw said to the sergeant.

‘I thought you were off duty in an hour, Davies.’

Huw shrugged his shoulders. ‘I’m a friend of the family.’

The sergeant didn’t argue. Huw Davies was a bachelor who lived with his elderly father, a retired policeman. His brothers had all moved away from the town and his only sister, a young war widow, was fiercely independent and known to resent Huw’s interference in her children’s upbringing. Consequently, the constable had acquired the reputation of being a soft touch when it came to swapping shifts or taking over from another officer who had a personal emergency.

The sergeant left the chair. ‘Be my guest, Davies, but there won’t be anyone here to relieve you until two o’clock this afternoon.’

‘That’s all right, sir, I didn’t have anything planned for today.’ Huw took his place.

‘Not even sleep?’ the sergeant enquired drily. ‘Goodbye, gentlemen. I hope the young man makes a recovery.’

‘Thank you.’ Harry watched the officer walk down the corridor. Ignoring the nurse, he leaned over David and whispered his name again.

David could hear Harry calling him. He was also aware of people and movement in the background and, from the distant clatter of crockery, and footsteps echoing over hard floors, he knew he was in a strange place. But he preferred to remain in the grey, fuzzy cocoon of semi-consciousness that enveloped him, than blink his way upwards to the light – and pain. He was aware of hurting, although his body felt strangely numbed.

‘Davy, come on, I know you can hear me, open your eyes.’

Harry’s voice penetrated the cocoon and David remembered standing on the bridge – and jumping.

Strangely dispassionate, he wondered if he were dead. But if that were the case, then why was Harry with him?

‘I really must ask you to stop trying to rouse the patient, Mr Evans,’ the sister protested.

‘His eyes are flickering,’ Harry demurred. ‘Davy …’

‘Edyth,’ David mumbled.

‘She’s fine, Davy,’ Harry murmured, with a backward glance at Huw and his father.

‘Tell her … tell her I love her, Harry …’

‘The dog’s fine, son, I saw it leave the river,’ Huw said loudly for the benefit of the sister, who was still holding the door open.

‘The patient needs quiet.’ The sister exercised the authority of her position. ‘And no more questions, constable, not until the doctor gives you permission to talk to him.’

‘Yes, sister.’ Huw removed his helmet and stroked his bald head.

‘David’s in good hands.’ Lloyd nodded to Harry, who left the room.

‘Thank you, Huw,’ Lloyd said gratefully. ‘We really appreciate you taking over here.’

‘If he comes round again while I’m here, I’ll call in and see you on my way home.’

‘I’ll tell Mari to keep the kettle on the boil and bake a cake.’

‘That will be worth calling in for.’ Huw smiled at the sister, but she ignored him and swept Lloyd out of the room.

‘So this is where you’re hiding yourself, dear.’ Alice Beynon pressed one of the brandies she had carried outside the house into Edyth’s hand.

‘No, thank you, Aunt Alice.’ After Peter’s mother had announced that she was moving in with them, Edyth had left the dining room. She knew that if she stayed, she would only say something that would upset Peter’s mother – and probably Peter. She was beginning to wonder if she knew the first thing about him after hearing that he had invited his mother to live with them without consulting her.

One of Mari’s often repeated maxims during her childhood had been, ‘If you say nothing you can’t be asked to take it back later.’ So, she had simply risen from the table, walked out of the room and, feeling the need for fresh air, made her way into the garden.

‘You’ve had a shock, Edyth, you need it,’ Alice persisted.

‘If I drink that, I’ll be squiffy for the rest of the afternoon,’ Edyth protested.

‘That might be the best state to be in. You can’t think too hard or get really angry when you’re squiffy.’ Alice walked over to a bench set in a sheltered spot overlooking her rose garden. ‘Come and sit down, dear. I spend hours here in summer when the blooms are out.’

‘It is lovely,’ Edyth complimented absently.

The bushes had been gorgeous in July and one or two withered blooms still clung to the branches, relics that Alice’s gardener referred to as the ‘ghosts of summer past’, but the skeletal trees and shrivelled, blackened leaves were hardly lovely now. However, Alice allowed Edyth’s comment to pass.

‘Peter didn’t tell you that his mother was moving in with you?’

‘Not a word.’ Edyth sat on the bench and stared blindly down at the brandy.

‘What would you have said if he had asked you?’ Alice pulled a pack of small, thin black cigars from her pocket. She offered Edyth one. Edyth shook her head. ‘Go on, it will annoy Flo – and Peter,’ she coaxed.

Edyth took one. ‘Before I met Mrs Slater’ – after the way Peter’s mother had made the announcement that she was moving into the vicarage in Tiger Bay with them, Edyth couldn’t bring herself to call her Mother – ‘I probably would have agreed. After all, she’s alone and she’s lost everything: her home, her husband and, to some extent, even her son.’

‘Rubbish; sons grow up and marry; it’s what normal men do. Although I admit I never expected to see the day that Peter would take a wife. If they try to hang on to their mother’s apron strings they’re laughed at by every right-thinking person. Flo has me, and she’s hardly roughing it in the workhouse,’ Alice pointed out caustically.

‘Your house is beautiful,’ Edyth complimented.

‘It’s taken a lot of time and money to get it this way,’ Alice dismissed the subject. ‘But how do you feel about having Flo to live with you now that you have met her? The truth, mind.’

BOOK: Tiger Bay Blues
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